I don’t understand how people are afraid of rain in movies…. I love the rain and I wouldn’t want an umbrella. I’d be like “Boy put that umbrella down and kiss me”

andatlastiletitgo:

OK BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT GRAND PABBIE HERE

first, let me tell you what just happened in this scene:

Grand Pabbie tells Anna that there’s ice in her heart and tells her that only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. Then, Bulda suggests, “a true love’s kiss, perhaps?” And then Kristoff says that he has to get Anna back to Hans (so he can kiss her and thaw her) and then they go. Then it shows Olaf and he says “I’m coming!” AND IF YOU LOOK IN THE BACKGROUND YOU SEE GRAND PABBIE DOING THIS. It kinda looks like he’s saying “no” and reaching his arm out. I interpret this as him saying, “No that’s not what i meant, i didn’t mean a true love’s kiss, i meant AN ACT OF TRUE LOVE.” Grand Pabbie never said it meant a true love’s kiss, Bulda suggested it and the trolls kissed each other. GRAND PABBIE KNEW THAT ANNA HAD TO DO THE ACT OF TRUE LOVE HERSELF. HE KNEW. We know that he can kind of see the future and stuff and we know that he can tell a lot from a person just by taking their hand and looking at them. Because of all this, I’m pretty sure that he knew that a true love’s kiss from Hans wouldn’t save her. And it’s also possible that he knew that Hans was evil. But Anna and Kristoff left before Grand Pabbie could say anything.

Oh my frozen

(via elsathesnowqueenfrozen)

Anonymous Asked:
Okay, really, stop being so overdramatic. Having a period can't be that bad.

tom-sits-like-a-whore:

All right, gather round children, gather round! Momma’s gonna tell you a little bedtime story.

You’re sleeping peacefully in your warm bed, snuggled up nice and tight in the covers and in the midst of a wonderful dream. Something not right, though, and you can feel it. A warm… wetness in between your legs, and not the good kind, either. This pulls you out of your sleep, and you pull the covers back to reveal a rather large stain of red on your bed, and it takes you only a second to realize it’s blood, and that the blood is yours. Now, most people would be frightened to wake up and find themselves bleeding, they would probably start screaming and try to stop the flow of blood, and rush themselves to a hospital. But this has become a matter of course for you. The sight of blood barely makes you bat an eyelash; all you can think is “Fuck, man, I wasn’t supposed to get this shit for another 2 days!” With that thought, you stumbled out of bed and waddle to the bathroom. (Why are you waddling, you ask? Well, you see, liquid travels in the direction of gravity, and having slept on your back last night, the blood saw fit to slither its way down to a certain crack on your backside and make quite a sticky mess all over your skin. It also bled through your underwear and to the pajama pants you had on, which are sticking to your skin and are uncomfortably wet.)

Seeing no recourse for this mess, you strip and hop in the shower. As you watch the water stream down red, you like to pretend that you just won a battle and you’re washing the blood of your enemies from your body. That is not the case however, and all to soon it’s time to exit the shower. Now, the race begins. You have to get out and get dressed before blood can start streaming down your legs and make a mess again. You’ve had years of experience though, and manage to get the feat done. 

Clean and with a fresh pad on (it’s much too early to shove a tampon up there, you decided), you head to your room to clean your bed. However, that’s when you start to feel it. 

That little pain in your lower abdomen that can only mean one thing.

Cramps.

In only moments, your lower belly is full of the excruciating pain. You’re certain that someone must be stabbing you with a dull knife, but no, it’s just your uterus literally shredding itself apart and getting rid of the dead tissue. (Now, reader, you may be wondering, to cramps really happen that fast? It varies from woman to woman, but in many cases, the cramps happen immediately.) 

The pain is so debilitating that you rush back to the bathroom and vomit. Clinging to the toilet bowl as you spew out last night’s chicken, you realize that your stomach is protesting in other ways, and then you rip off your pants as your body’s waste makes its exit through your backside. (The polite way of saying that you fucking shit out your intestines because you get extreme diarrhea.)

These cramps last for a few hours, still, in which you lay in a fetal position on the bathroom floor. All the while, blood is pouring out of a fucking hole in your body, and actions like coughing and sneezing only send a flood of blood (teehee) pouring out. There is no position that you can stand, sit, or lay in that will alleviate the pain, and while painkillers help, the pain simply has to run its course. Suddenly, that large butchers knife in the kitchen seems tempting. You wonder what the survival rate would be if you decided to carve our your uterus—surely it wouldn’t hurt as much as this. But you’re in too much pain to even get up… perhaps another day.

Eventually, you overcome the cramps, and you’re somewhat back to normal. But the effects of your period aren’t over yet. Now you’re starving, and for the most ridiculous food. You want a Big Mac with extra mayonnaise, large fries, and a large chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream. Oh, and a peanut butter and nutella sandwich. Your father looks at you like you have a third eye when you ask him to purchase your meal, but your mother knowingly nods in understanding and goes to get it for you.

This is just the first day, however. This torture last on for about 5 days on average, and society expects you to just go about your life as if everything were normal. Nevermind that wearing pads is just about the most stressful thing you could do, because if it even so much as moves an inch to the left or right, you’ll have the fucking Niagara Bloody Falls leaking out and staining your pants. Not to mention that wearing a pad is like wearing a diaper, and when you sit down, you’re sitting on a soggy piece of material soaked in your own blood and there’s really no way of sitting that isn’t uncomfortable as hell. Your other option is a tampon, which is even more uncomfortable. You find the feeling of a huge piece of cotton shoved up your vagina to be weird, but sometimes it can’t be avoided. However, the health implications of tampons are always on your mind, because if you leave it in for even a few minutes too long, you can go into Toxic Shock Syndrome with can induce seizures and leave you with brain damage. 

Fun, right?

As if that weren’t enough, you think to yourself, it’s not even really blood that’s coming out of you! It is, but it’s also gooey pieces and chunks of your uterus. As you change your pad, you stare down at the dirty one in disgust. 

Sleeping is mission critical during this time. There’s no position to sleep in that doesn’t have it’s problems. Sleep on your side? You wake up with blood leaking down your thigh and on days when flow is particularly heavy, out the side of your underwear. And you already know what sleeping on your back gets you, as you found out earlier this morning when you had to spend time in the shower cleaning out your gluteus maximus. 

The worst part is that all of this is completely unavoidable, and for the most part, it’ll happen every month for anywhere between 20-40 years of your life. Your nose wrinkles at the mere thought of doing this once, you can barely imagine this for nearly half your life!

Actually, you decide, that’s not the worst part of it. The worst part is when assholes have no idea what you go through, all of the pain, tears, and literal blood that you have to suffer through, and when you feel genuinely shitty, they tell you things like “Stop being so overdramatic, it can’t be that bad.” Even though they will never know what it’s like to have to endure one of their internal organs shedding its dead tissue every month. Yes, you nod to yourself, that’s the worst. 

You’re getting dressed for another shitty day. You stare at your white pants longingly, and pull at the huge granny panties that you have to wear because there’s way too much of a chance the you’ll leak if you wear a thong. In the end, you raise a middle finger to the world and opt for sweat pants. These are the trials and tribulations you must endure. 

And it never gets better.

The end. 

*closes book*

Now get the fuck off my blog you ignorant little shit. 

This is just the best!!!!!!!!

PLEASE

terminuslumberjack:

Please **SHARE** this!


WRITTEN BY A COP: Everyone should take 5 minutes to read this. It may save your life or a loved one’s life. In daylight hours, refresh yourself of these things to do in an emergency situation… This is for you, and for you to share with your wife, your children, &…

For EVERYONE

Me trying to prove someone wrong

Me trying to prove someone wrong

(Source: better-than-kanye-bitchh, via pizza)

thehungergays:

That moment when the home seller thinks Sam and Dean are partners»»

OMG and then Dean goes along with it!!!!!!

i-am-majestic:

Mom: Did you already get your stuff?
Me: Yes

I was there when it happened

i-am-majestic:

Mom: Did you already get your stuff?
Me: Yes

I was there when it happened

yamino:

punkrockluna:

i always love this part because it means that maleficent had to be like “haha ok i’m gonna cover her with my cape and when they go WHERE IS SHE i’ll be like BOOM TADA”

Presentation and flair is an important job requirement for being Mistress of All Evil.

Is this is why Edna hates capes?

yamino:

punkrockluna:

i always love this part because it means that maleficent had to be like “haha ok i’m gonna cover her with my cape and when they go WHERE IS SHE i’ll be like BOOM TADA”

Presentation and flair is an important job requirement for being Mistress of All Evil.

Is this is why Edna hates capes?

(Source: diabolicaldisney, via theelectricroom)

bunnyravio:

tropius:

if your hand is like the one on the right then youre gay

ACTUALLY!!!
The one on the left is the hand of someone who received more testosterone as a fetus, and the one on the left is of someone who received more estrogen. It doesn’t necessarily determine sexuality, but rather whether you are male- or female-brained. (That determines things like empathy levels, competitiveness levels, visuo-spacial vs. language skills, etc.) It CAN be a hint of one’s sexuality, but it is under no circumstances a final testament to it. I mean, I’m a girl with a super female brain and the index finger to match but I am gay as hell


WAIT!!!What if when your left index and ring finger matches up it means you’re gay or lesbian Cause mine match up and I, too, am gay as hell. I mean look at my URL

bunnyravio:

tropius:

if your hand is like the one on the right then youre gay

ACTUALLY!!!

The one on the left is the hand of someone who received more testosterone as a fetus, and the one on the left is of someone who received more estrogen. It doesn’t necessarily determine sexuality, but rather whether you are male- or female-brained. (That determines things like empathy levels, competitiveness levels, visuo-spacial vs. language skills, etc.) It CAN be a hint of one’s sexuality, but it is under no circumstances a final testament to it. I mean, I’m a girl with a super female brain and the index finger to match but I am gay as hell

WAIT!!!

What if when your left index and ring finger matches up it means you’re gay or lesbian

Cause mine match up and I, too, am gay as hell. I mean look at my URL

(via theelectricroom)

Does anyone else think of how sporks are basically just the bisexual utensils?